"Mmm, I Just Can't Stand Normal. You Intrigue Me...and Therefore, Here We Are," He Said With A Brief

When the owl landed on his desk with a letter from Rosmerta to say that she had closed the deal on the Three Broomsticks, Kingsley immediately sent one back to say he'd be there as soon as his shift finished to celebrate with her. The next few hours felt like they were dragging which was a feeling Kingsley rarely had at work given how much he loved his job, but he ached to go and celebrate with his friend. As soon as he could, Kingsley disapparated to Hogsmeade where it had already started to get dark out. Ducking into the Hogs Head first, Kingsley had to throw down a few extra knuts down to get the 'beef' stew to take out. Casting a warming charm to keep it hot as he made his way back up the high street, Kingsley strode up to the door of the Three Broomsticks and nudged it open with his foot.

Setting the tubs of food down on the nearest table, Kingsley's eyes searched Rosmerta's before he beamed at her. "You, my brilliant friend, are the only person on this Earth that I would risk my life for by eating Aberforth's stew. Come here, I'm so proud of you," he said, drawing his friend into a hug. @ofxsorcery

Fenrir had a feeling that they would end up circling back to the subject of Anders Greyback later on in the evening. He'd expected further questions immediately, but equally he wasn't surprised that Pandora wanted to go straight from business to pleasure. "Oh, he deserved it all and more," Fenrir growled out, his heart black and bitter. Anders had shown Fenrir how not to be a father, and he was grateful that the man would never have a chance to know Magnus.

With hands firmly on Pandora's hips, Fen took the opportunity as she bared her neck to him to press hot kisses down her jawline. He was preparing to apparate them, wanting to get into the privacy of his own home otherwise they would end up just staying here - which, honestly, he wouldn't mind too much either. "My darling, what do we need to do? Can it not be done at home? I'm an impatient man.."

For the second time in a week, Regulus found himself in the aurors office. An urgent summons had awaited him at his desk in the Department of Mysteries, instructing him to disregard whatever work he was currently undertaking and visit the aurors office at once. Whatever it was, Regulus had a sinking feeling that it couldn't be good. Casting his mind back over the last few weeks, he tried to figure out if there was anywhere that he may have slipped up and given away his allegiances but he was coming up blank. Summoning all of his mother's etiquette training, Regulus drew a deep breath and straightened his spine as he knocked on the office door. Waiting for the summons to enter, Regulus kept his expression clear of any fear that had settled in his chest. "Mr Bones, I am a very busy man. What is the reason for the summons?" @edgarebones

The longer he sat there, the heavier the weight of Lucius' judgment seemed to be. They were family now, and Regulus' family seemed to be dwindling every time he blinked. He ached for more - not that he thought he would find that in Lucius Malfoy. It was the pureblooded way to be like this with family, and Regulus was tired of constantly second-guessing himself around those who were meant to care. He was alone in the world, more alone than ever, and he was trying to cling to any sort of familial relationship he had - including that with his new, judgy cousin-in-law. "Hmm, maybe....but this is tastier. I've got Black family genes, I'm all skin and bones, I don't need to worry about eating several pies," he shrugged, pushing his plate away. Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, Reg looked at Lucius and asked "how are you adjusting to having Narcissa's hobbies in your home? She's got a fascinating collection," he commented, curious as to how Lucius was adjusting to that. "Happy wife, happy life...that's what they say, right? Not that I'd know."

Lucius took a moment to let his attention drift from the pie on the table, up to the wizard in front of him. Words hung on the tip of his tongue, ready to judge on the need to eat two pies, though, they faded away, not in the mood to end up in any real banter. He wanted a night to relax from his duties he did earlier before heading home to his wife.

"You do not think substance might be better?" Get a proper meal in to fuel him. "The food here isn't that horrid." He had better at other establishments. "Married life is fine." They had spent a lot of time together, but it was nice knowing that at the end of the night, she did not have to leave, a comfort waking up to her beside him. "That is good to know. I do not like when she is unhappy."

“he is an unyielding cornerstone made of steel and he would never shatter.”

— somewhere to begin, s.k (via somewheretobeginnovel)

Letting the heat from the mug sink into his bones, Kingsley found himself relaxing back into the sofa. There weren't many places that Kingsley felt he could truly relax, but his sister's home was one of them - warded as much as his own home, with two residents that he trusted more than any other living soul. There was safety within these walls, and unconditional love. The thought of Sade putting herself at higher risk almost made him feel ill. He had wondered if this was what she might have felt as he put himself through auror training, or if this was how she felt when he had been critically injured - perhaps it was unfair for him to be here, on the verge of pleading with her.

But he would do it anyways - for Jasper's sake, and for his own sake.

"I'm not sure the Dark Lord takes breaks, but I am trying to be better. The department is stretched, but better a man down for a few days rather than me being exhausted in battle and then they're a man down permanently," he said sagely. "But you're settling in alright? Co-workers all fine?" he asked, conscious that the ministry was strained at the best of time. "I have. But I want to hear it from you, before I say my piece. I trust Edgar told me the whole truth, but I want to hear from you what you're looking for and why."

Settling into the sofa with her own mug in hand, Sade looked down into her tea as Kingsley brought up the Order. In recent weeks, Sade had been interested in increasing her involvement, to maybe allow herself to be put forward for a few missions. Acting as a safe house wasn’t an option, bringing trouble to the home she shared with her son was never a step Sade was willing to take. Her involvement in the Order was supportive, rather than proactive, and anybody who knew Sade was aware at how much being sidelined irritated her. Nevertheless, it was something she knew Kingsley would disagree with. That was why she had visited a few of his friends, other influential figures within the Order’s ranks.

“You need to take a break,” Sade acknowledged, an evident tone of concern in her voice, “some time off might just be what you need.” Leaning back on the sofa, bringing her legs to rest beside her. Sade always admired Kingsley, his tenacity, and ambition but with the war ever-raging on, it wasn’t healthy to never switch off. “I’ve been good, starting back at the office is strange. A position in the Wizengamot doesn’t look quite as close as it once did.” She chuckled, a brief pause. “The Order? Something tells me you’ve heard about my requests.”

If he wasn't in such a shitty mood, the way that James' expression flickered and changed as Regulus sent empty sparks his way might have sent guilt clanging through his chest. One day, James' seemingly endless patience for Regulus and his bullshit would run out - hell, maybe Regulus had just driven the final dagger into whatever was left of what they'd been. Letting his wand drop down to the table with a clatter, Regulus slumped back into the chair as if hit with a wave of physical exhaustion. "Sirius will know. He doesn't yet. We wanted to get the protection in place first. I have spoken to Andromeda about my recent thoughts, and some other...developments. But I couldn't...I was..." Reg stammered over his words, nose scrunching in discomfort. "I'm scared to tell him, I guess. Scared of what he might think," whenever he was in the presence of his brother, he felt like a small terrified kid year old all over again watching everything slip between his useless fingers. "Maybe, one day."

Regulus didn't want to hand blame to those who had left him, but in his brain, there was a clear correlation between his cousin and his brother leaving, and the intense pressure that suddenly came stamping down on his shoulders. There was never a chance for him to do anything else, there was only one option. Almost instinctively, Regulus' hand came up to itch the skin where his Dark Mark lay, nails digging in slightly as if he could rip it off. "All I've ever wanted to do was be a good son, a good brother, good enough. And somehow I've managed to be a terrible son, a terrible brother, a terrible Death Eater. I'm not good at any of it. But maybe I can be good enough that I don't get caught. Maybe...just maybe I can tip the scales a little bit. I've already given Edgar information on some planned raids, and some names of those within the muggle government under the imperius. I'll do what I can whilst I can. I'm not sure it will be enough, but it's better than nothing," he said, a small frown knitted between his brows. "I don't think the Order is doing enough, James. I'm giving the Order information because it's the best option we have, but I don't believe that your Order can make much of a difference. Not yet, anyway. I know that everyone seems to have boundless optimism in the power of good, but...I'm not sure it's enough. You don't know the sort of power you're fighting against, the depth of the ideologies...it's impossibly dark," he breathed, before his gaze shot up to meet James'. "That makes two of us. This war is eating at me, and I fear that even if I make it to the end, there will be nothing of me left. But you're right. If it means that the Dark Lord isn't in power at the end of it all, it's worth it...right?"

"I've never been enough, James. Everybody I've ever known has wanted me to be someone else, to be something else. Nobody has ever really wanted just plain old Regulus, with his ugly feelings and his messy fears, not until recently," Regulus' voice was small and weak, betraying all of his deepest feelings about himself. "It's been a slow process, I think. There isn't one specific thing that changed my mind. My heart was never in it, not the way that my family wanted it to be. I was doing it because it was the right thing, the thing to make my family proud. I'm not devoted, I'm not skilled at the Dark Arts. The first time I crucioed someone I went home and vomited until I passed out. The pressure from my family...it's suffocating me, and I was starting to panic in the field. It just wasn't feeling right any more, I couldn't in good conscience go out and fight that cause any more."

"And....I met someone. Someone that I really like that is on on your side, someone who's a muggle-born. And I started to realise that his blood status doesn't matter to me at all, and then I looked at myself and thought...what the fuck are you doing, Reg?"

His wand aimed directly at his forehead, James' hazel eyes, dilated in dim light and emotion, never left the grey of Regulus'. He won't do it. He wouldn't, he thought. A light flashed from the tip of the wood and, just for a moment, he considered the possibility he might have been wrong. What that would mean. His brows furrowed. In the split-second before he was obliviated, James' last thought was that he forgave him. Regulus could do just about anything and James would probably forgive him – without being prompted, without being asked, without even knowing if there was anything to really forgive. A moment later, he blinked, and here he still was. "Does Sirius know?" Lingering awkwardness from that surge of feeling cracked his voice as he spoke. "About this whole double-agent thing? I was told not to tell anyone, but I think he should know." James shrugged. "I'm glad he's getting a laugh out of it." He'd only ever heard good things about Uncle Alphard. "It probably is funny, I guess. I'm sure in ten years we'll laugh about it, too."

James listened quietly, guilt clawing at him from inside his gut as he chewed on his bottom lip. It's not your fault, he reminded himself. It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault. But it was. Taking Sirius away from his family was effectively signing Regulus' prison sentence. Before the two had become close, he had never thought about Sirius running away like that, but after, it was all he could think about. "I don't really know what to say," James said honestly, at last. "It's such a shitty hand that you've been dealt. I'm not going to pretend like this doesn't change everything, because it does." He, however, was nothing if not optimistic. "But hopefully, it'll change everything for the better. That's all each of us is trying to do, right?" A far cry from the effortless confidence he exuded when asked by anyone else about the war, James felt he could be vulnerable around Regulus. He had no expectations of him, unlike everyone else, and so he didn't feel the need to play the part he normally did. "I've always had the feeling I wasn't going to make it out alive," he said suddenly. He had never said that out loud. "At least we'll die doing the right thing."

"You are enough. You're doing wonderfully. Give yourself some grace." He nodded, relief surging through him. "Okay." A question, however, had been eating him alive, from the inside out. It reared its ugly face now. "What made you ... y'know. Switch sides?" At the end of the day, although they liked to put it down to Sirius, it was their opposing ideologies that had driven them apart. The dark mark had been the final, physical nail in the coffin that they couldn't ignore – the step they both knew that, once Regulus took, James couldn't follow after.

Pandora never seemed to shy away from him, and it was that amongst other things that kept drawing him back. A firm hand pressed against the small of her back, pressing her to him. When the two of them were like this, the rest of the world seemed to fade away - there was only the curious, beautiful witch in front of him, and the hours that they could snatch away for themselves. Desire burned within his veins at the brief sharpness of her teeth, and he hummed a noise of approval. "Over, and over again," he vowed with a smirk.

Pandora's attention felt almost as powerful as the spell that had held him, though he knew that she was looking with a curious eye to see whether the magic worked. He'd spotted the brief flash of surprise in her eyes, though he knew that he had made it clear that Magnus was his only family. Anders Greyback was an unwelcome memory, but that was all. Fenrir hardly thought of the older man at all these days, and the only time he did was on mornings when he woke up with Magnus after the full moon and saw his son recovering better than young Fenrir ever had cooped away in that cellar under his father's hateful eyes.

Brushing the decades old bitterness towards his father away as Pandora summed up his patricide with simple words, Fenrir couldn't help but agree. "Fucking arsehole is more like it," he said, moving his arms to support her as she jumped him. "Oh, I know I am," he grinned, walking a few steps backwards to a nearby tree that he could press Dora against. After a few moments, he drew back ever so slightly, speaking against her lips. "Are we going back to mine? Do you need that clock still?"

A shiver rippled down Pandora's spine with the words he confessed to her. There were those she spent time with, but there was an appeal when she was the object of their desire and wanted to take her. Her teeth grazed along his bottom lip when he pulled from the kiss, a wanton need burning in her amber hues from him. The last thing she ever wanted to do was to tame Fenrir, it was his beast that called to her, captured her in this world they had built within the woods. "I know you will. You always make good on your word." There was sexual innuendo wrapped in her words, the anticipation slowly breaking her.

There was an intimacy formed being confined in his arms with him helping her achieve success with her spell. That he would be willing to take a risk for her and Fenrir would never know how much that would mean to her. Intent hues studies his facial features, his words, they surprised her, but she did not judge him. Pandora knew there was more to the story and when he was ready, he would tell her - her attention turned elsewhere.

An ecstatic smile appeared on her lips. It worked. Pandora couldn't contain the feelings that swirled inside of her, that all she wanted to do was to celebrate with him. "He was probably a jerk anyway." The words slipped free and she didn't waste time, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping up that she could coil her legs around his waist. "You are so sexy." She murmured softly before capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

There was something in the woman's gaze that indicated that the hardness of her expression was personal and yet Fenrir couldn't say he'd ever seen her before. That didn't mean that they'd never crossed paths, of course, but she was entirely unmemorable if that was the case. Shrugging at her sharpness, Fenrir rolled his eyes. "If you don't want anything from me, perhaps you could stop trying to crucio me with your eyes. At least do it properly."

If there was anyone she wished to cause immediate harm to, it was the one standing in front of her, what he did to Remus with no regard, she wanted to bring him to his knees. He had no idea who she was, but she knew plenty about him. And, she didn't like him. "No, I don't want anything from you." She replied more sharply than she would ever dare. Aurora was done waiting for who wanted this parchment, standing up.

The brief flash of guilt in Caradoc's eyes that quickly got masked by pain once more made Regulus frown, but he would press for more information on that once he had dealt with the more immediate issues. "You're hurt, that is a big deal," he said, kicking the door closed behind them as soon as Caradoc was in from the cold.

Regulus settled Caradoc onto the couch, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he stood again to look his boyfriend over with an analytical eye. "Don't be daft. I can brew more potions, I can't find another Caradoc," Reg said, his tone stern enough to let Caradoc know that he wouldn't take no for an answer on this. "I think....let's deal with the splinching first, unless you have anything more serious? There's too much blood, I can't tell what's what," he said, rifling through the bottles he'd summoned to find his essence of dittany.

Kneeling before Caradoc, Reg moved the scraps of his trousers aside to get a clear look at the wound. Being unable to go to St Mungos after Death Eater missions had led Regulus to learn some basic healing, but he wasn't sure how much good he'd be here. "It might sting, okay?" he said, pulling the stopper out of the bottle before he dropped two drops of the essence on Caradoc's leg.

And here, the guilt was seeping in. One didn’t have to be a genius to tell that Regulus had been asleep, or at the very least planning to go to bed soon. Here Caradoc was, interrupting and bleeding out. “‘S no biggie,” he mumbled as he leaned against his boyfriend, thankful for the assist. It was only when he was inside that he realized just how cold it had been out there.

“Mission. It went sideways. I was with a couple other Aurors — told them to apparate and get help and I stayed behind . . .” He trailed off, trying to spare Regulus anymore of the details. Plus, he didn’t particularly want to think about it himself.

As they reached the living room, Caradoc let out a sigh of relief and leaned his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is enough, Reg. Don’t waste any of your potions on me,” he said, just happy to be here.